


15. Reunion in Fiji

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [15]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 04:56:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4551363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warnings: none</p>
    </blockquote>





	15. Reunion in Fiji

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: none

Stephen's back to his wide eyed 'this-place-is-awesome' thing again as he's taken from the airport in a Cit car, and then ushered with quiet efficiency out to the resort and finally the bure which will be his and Antony's home for the next week. 

The service was so attentive he half wonders if it has anything to do with Antony's apparent closeness with Louis. He's advised that his Sir's plane is due to land in 2 hours and would Stephen like for them to return to collect him so he can greet Antony at Reception when he arrives. Stephen nods, with a grin. 

He spends the first 15 minutes doing a circuit of the bure, before settling out on the over water deck for a moment, simply to drink in the view and reflect on what a fucking lucky bastard he is to have scored Antony as his Sir if this is the kind of treatment he can expect - that and the amazing kink. 

When a member of staff appears some time later to collect him, Stephen's freshly showered, he's wearing a pair of tight black shorts, his collar clutched in one hand. He follows out, bare foot, head high, anticipation zinging through his body at the prospect of seeing his Sir and partner. 

_Coming to get you..._

Antony's exhausted. He always is at the end of a job and this was two back-to-back. But they went smoothly, except for the shit with the Russian, and now, despite his fatigue, he's wired just at the thought of seeing Stephen. Sleep can wait. He wants his boy. Wants to make good on his promise.

Stephen's been pacing the reception, he's admired the beams that arc up creating the roof space, he's picked up and scanned a few brochures on activities and services that are on offer but soon enough all he can think about is seeing Antony, so he paces, his gaze returning time and again to the door. Heedless of the amused, but understanding, glances he's getting from the reception staff.

_C'mon...._

Stretching his shoulders out when the car pulls up in front of reception, Antony lets the bellboy take his bags. He'd changed into dark green cargo shorts on the plane, slipped on flip flops and a tight black t-shirt as well, his suit slipped into a carrier. The number of security and staff means he doesn't see Stephen until he's in the reception proper but then, like a laser sighting its target, he zeroes in on his boy. Standing there, barely clothed, something - Christ, his collar - held in his fist.

Stephen feels the prickle of eyes on him, and he turns - stood some 10 feet away is his Sir. Looking tired, travel weary, but so good. Stephen's face splits into a broad grin and he strides forward closing that distance before sinking - gracefully - to his knees, his face tilted up - offering his collar with his open hand. 

"Sir..."

The sight steals Antony's breath away, his body reacting instantly. "Boy," he murmurs, taking the collar from Stephen, eyes roaming over him, the hunger growing. He fastens the leather around Stephen's neck, buckling it into place. " _Mine._ " Aware they're being watched. Aware of promises made. "You'd better have something else for me as well."

Reaching behind himself, Stephen plucks three sachets of lube from where he'd tucked them into the waist band of his shorts at the last moment. He offers them up without a word, his eyes bright with pleasure. So far the only touch they've exchanged are the brief brushes of Antony's fingers over his throat as he sited his collar. What Stephen is craving however is to lean in and press his forehead to his Sir's hip and drink in his physical presence and his scent. 

Lube in hand, Antony crooks a finger at Stephen, beckoning his boy to his feet.

Stephen rolls up, feet hip width apart, shoulders back. "Sir..." he murmurs, a smile tugging at his mouth - because it feels so damned good to be back under Antony's control. 

Antony reaches out, smiling, tugging Stephen in close, their lips almost touching. "I promised I'd fuck you, here, in front of everyone. Reclaim you. But I want this first," he whispers, brushing their mouths together, the arousal coiling tighter and tighter just barely held back. His tongue flicking into Stephen's mouth, tasting his boy.

"So do I..." Stephen returns softly, his lips dancing against Antony's, their breath shared, an intimate space. He slides his hand around Antony's waist, and tugs him in a little. "I missed you," he adds, before pressing his mouth fully to his Sir's - and letting him _feel_ just how much.

Antony groans into the kiss, arousal flaring so hard he can't help wishing they were somewhere with actual walls. "I missed you too," he breathes, then tugs at Stephen's shorts. "Get these off," he orders. "And brace yourself against one of those chairs," which thank fucking god are bolted to the fucking ground.

Backing up a few paces, Stephen's grinning at Antony, his own arousal evident to anyone looking. His blue eyes shine with want for this one man and he shimmies his way out of the shorts, dropping them beside the chair he's selected, and then he inclines his head - a show of respect, before turning and presenting his ass to his Sir - not caring if, or how many people, might be watching him. For Stephen, there is just one man in the room. 

Antony toes out of his flip flops, his cargo shorts joining Stephen's on the floor, his teeth already tearing open one of the sachets. He's had boys at the club, girls too, god, so many of both, but none of it's been like this. Meant just for him. For _him_. He slicks his fingers, pushing two inside Stephen, groaning at the tightness, the sheer heat of his boy's body. Fuck.

His eyes slide shut, and Stephen lets out a low groan of pleasure, his Sir's fingers are so sure, even this one simple touch is possessive and he revels in that, rocking back to take more, eager to show Antony how much he wants him. 

Aware of people watching them, Antony ignores them all, pushing his fingers deeper before pulling them back, the pads rubbed over that spot, that bundle of nerves inside him. Every fibre of his being focused on his boy.

Stephen gives a full body shudder at that first brush over his prostate, he turns his head, licks over his lips and forces out words before they desert him entirely. "Yours...your fuck toy...your boy..."

Antony nods, a third finger added, twisting deeper, forcing Stephen's body to open for him. " _Mine._ My hole," fucking his fingers in and out, "my cock," trailing his free hand over Stephen's erection, "my balls," his hand gripping firmly, squeezing just enough to underline those words.

"All of it," Stephen agrees, breathlessly, that hint, that promise of pain nudges him further into headspace, he shuffles his feet a little wider, ensuring his ass is totally accessible. "This boy..."

Fuck. Antony curses softly under his breath with the sudden knowledge that they're missing something. Something needed here if nowhere else. But then just like that, there's a in-house sub stepping forward to offer him a condom. "Fuck, I love this place," he says with a laugh, the wrapper dropped to the floor, the latex slicked into place, another layer of lube spread over it.

Unaware of what's happening behind him, Stephen simply keeps his hips moving in that slow sensual dance of a man highly aroused. He tilts his ass up, "Fuck this toy Sir...fuck your slut..." he murmurs, not so much demanding as needy. 

"Oh, I will," Antony promises, chuckling softly, his thumbs used to spread Stephen's cheeks, head nudging against his hole before he slowly pushes in, forcing himself past that first tight ring of muscle.

 _Jesusfucking..._ It's almost like Stephen's forgotten just how _big_ Antony's cock is... he whines as his Sir pushes in, heedless of the little pain noises he's making. His fingers tighten on the chair as he pants, trying to take what Sir is so determined to give him. 

"Oh, fuck, you're so tight," Antony breathes, slowly sinking himself deeper, every fraction of an inch hard-fought-for and won.

Stephen's knuckles are white by the time Antony bottoms out, his skin snug against Stephen's ass. Loosening his fingers he reaches back with one hand to press it against the skin of his Sir's hip, a moment of connection before he braces himself a fresh, waiting, knowing that the moment his Sir detects a slight give in Stephen's body - he'll start fucking him - hard. 

"You'd better hold on tight, boy," Antony murmurs, just as slowly drawing back, out right to the tip, the gape of Stephen's hole nearly stealing his breath away. He rocks his hips, once, twice and again, then slams in, hard, so fucking hard his teeth almost rattle with it.

The air, the sound is forced out of Stephen in one harsh punch of Antony's hips. It has every one within 20 feet stopping to look, but Stephen's not aware, nor would he care, he simply arches back, working his body to make sure his Sir gets every thing he wants. 

_Mine_ rolls through Antony's mind again, the one word, the one thought, spiking his arousal so high he can barely hold on. But he does. Fights his way through it, his body still, Stephen's vibrating beneath him, his hole open, offered, _begging_ for his cock, and then he slams in, hands on Stephen's hips, dragging him into meeting every brutal thrust.

There is nothing else for Stephen but the man who is pounding his ass so fucking hard. There's something different about this sex, something more _hungry_ more possessive even. And it makes Stephen's head spin - he knows on a very deep level he can trust this man with his entire being - so he gives himself fully. Pushing back, grunting, offering his pleading, pathetic fuck pig noises. 

Pleasure coursing through his veins, Antony ramps up the strength behind his thrusts, knowing Stephen can take it. _Will_ take it. Fucks him harder and deeper until there's no question of holding out, holding back. He comes with a roar, hips pumping, cock spurting violently, his only regret the condom between them.

Skin slick with sweat, Stephen is almost - but not quite - sobbing when Antony finally orgasms, his Sir's body locked tight against his own. He's breathless, skin flushed a brilliant shade of red, but he holds his position, lets his Sir enjoy his pleasure. 

"Good boy," Antony murmurs, running his hands over Stephen's hips and ass. His hips rocking, savouring the last of the aftershocks, before he reaches forward, one finger slipped under Stephen's collar, pulling him up and back into his embrace, cock still inside him.

Stephen's eyes are still closed when Antony hauls him backward, his Sir's arms sliding around his waist. Without conscious thought Stephen tilts his head, offering the side of his throat to his Sir. 

And right there, right then, Antony feels something inside _him_ give, the gesture making his chest twist tight. Fuck. His cock jerks roughly, divorced from everything else, Antony's heart pounding as he licks over the pulse in Stephen's throat, closes his mouth over it, teeth teasing the throb of it.

A perfect moment of stillness - his surrender offered, and accepted, Stephen's never felt so connected to a dominant before. He reaches back, his hand settles on the curve of his Sir's ass - but it's not a sexual caress, but one of intimacy in this oh so public place. 

A kiss pressed to Stephen's skin, Antony finally lifts his head, suddenly very aware of the crowd they've drawn. He zeroes in on the closest staff member, telling the girl, "Bring me a robe for my boy, or a towel, something. Now." His tone soft but firm. Another kiss pressed to the nape of Stephen's neck as they wait, soft words of praise accompanying it.

Stephen briefly wonders why his Sir wants something to cover him up with, but he's far more distracted by the press of skin on skin, and the way the smell of Antony's sweat fills his nose, his Sir's voice murmuring sweet words of approval for his behaviour. He keeps his eyes closed, the better to shut out the people around them.

The girl's quickly back with a robe, the fabric folded over her arm and offered to Antony. "Hold on," he tells her, easing out from Stephen's body, enough space made between them to get the robe wrapped around his boy's shoulders. "Come back to me, Stephen," he orders, unwilling to let go of his boy to get rid of the condom or grab his own clothes until he's certain Stephen's back with him.

There's reluctance, a hesitation, but Stephen takes a deeper breath, and forcibly exhales, repeats and then opens his eyes, he shifts his stance to better get his feet under him and then turning, eyes downcast he murmurs, "Present." Though he's notes with curiosity that he's trembling, head to toe. 

"You okay?" Antony asks, turning Stephen to lean back against the chair, the condom discreetly stripped off and ditched in the small bin beside them. His eyes are locked on Stephen's face and he reaches up to touch his cheek, palm cupping the curve of his jaw.

"Um...yeah...just a little shaky," Stephen nods and his forehead wrinkles for a brief moment. "Long flight...deep head space," he adds as if to explain. "Just need to lay down and eat I think." He tilts his head into Antony's palm and manages a smile. "I'm okay."

The girl's still standing nearby and when Antony glances at their shorts, she picks them up and offers them over to him. "Thank you," he murmurs, moving in closer to Stephen again. "I think tonight might be best spent in our room. You can lie down and I'll order us in some steaks and when you're feeling better, I'll fuck you again - _without_ a condom," he adds with a smile. "And let you come then."

For all that he's feeling a little out of sorts, Stephen's mouth quirks at that. "You're all heart," he teases softly, before nodding. "Yeah, some quiet time would fucking rock right now." Truth be told, Stephen's tired, he's been working his ass off on some pretty heavy physical fight scenes, and stacking up extra hours at the gym, partly to keep himself in such sharp shape, but also as a distraction from the absence of his Sir. The journey here had been long, and he'd been unable to sleep on the plane. Now Antony is here, he's let his guard down and it's all kinda caught up with him. 

Antony turns his head to give the girl their dinner order, knowing she'll make sure it's passed along and she lets him know that his bag has already been taken to their room. "Do you know where we are?" Antony asks Stephen the moment the girl steps away, helping his boy more fully into the robe and tying it around his waist, a moment taken to slip his own shorts back on.

Amused at being fussed over, Stephen nods with a smile. "Yeah, I can walk us back." He waits until Antony has his shorts back in place and then holds out his hand. 

Antony links their fingers together, their shoulders close as they walk along the pathway towards the overwater bures. "What do you think?" he asks, nodding towards their surroundings. "Is it as good as I promised?"

"Well, the toilet isn't gold, and the shower spits out water and not champagne, but yeah, it'll do," Stephen drawls, bumping shoulders with his Sir. "Yeah Antony, it's pretty fucking perfect, or it is now," he adds the last with a drop in his voice, his hand squeezing his Sir's. 

Antony smiles at that. "I brought you your presents," he says, nodding at a couple he knows as they pass, unwilling to stop and make any kind of small talk right now.

Stephen turns his head at that and smiles. "You did?" It's worried Stephen that they'd have some awkwardness when they were reunited, but there's nothing like that, just a wonderful easiness. "Thank you." He tugs Antony down a smaller path. "We're this way..."

Antony lets Stephen lead him, enjoying the breeze from the water, the trees swaying overhead, the sense of being somewhere and with someone, where he can truly relax. Let all his shields down. "Did you get to swim yet?"

"No...I got in a couple of hours before you, had time to nose around the bure and then take a long shower to wash off the journey. I couldn't settle after that," Stephen admits, smiling over at Antony. "What about you? Swim, hot tub or shower? Assuming you want to get washed up in some form." As they approach the bure Stephen steps up and pushes the door open and steps aside. "Home sweet home."

"Yeah. For a whole week," Antony says with a wide easy grin, already stripping off his t-shirt and dropping his shorts, his flip flops kicked to the side as he heads for the deck and the water on the other side of their bure. "C'mon. Come join me," he calls, already diving from the deck into the water below.

Stephen sheds his robe and wanders out to the deck. He grins down as Antony glides back and forth, clearly enjoying the water. He reaches up to unbuckle his collar which is sets on one of the loungers before he slips into the water. He's still a little achy from the fuck, but figures that won't last long once he's stretched himself with a little swimming. 

Antony surfaces close to Stephen, smiling at him, wiping the water from his eyes. "Do you snorkel or dive?"

"Not really, not since I was a kid," Stephen grins back, he swims around behind Antony and dives down under the water, to get a little grabby hands at Antony's butt. 

Antony laughs, twisting in the water to grab for Stephen as well. Pulling his boy in close when they both come up again. "Water seems to have revived you," he says with a grin and a kiss.

"A little, or maybe it's you?" Stephen cocks a brow and goes in for another kiss. "I'm good for another fuck, but if you want to put me down and scene? I'm gonna need to eat first." As part of their contract Antony had stipulated that he be open about his physical well being - and he's taking that to heart. 

"I want you here with me," Antony says, grabbing the handrail for the steps that lead to their deck. "Ever been fucked in the ocean?"

"No, can't say I have," Stephen replies, as he treads water. "Won't there be a lube issue?" Because fuck, even he can't take Antony's cock without a liberal application of lube. 

"Not if I make sure we have some waterproof on hand," Antony says, holding a hand out to Stephen. "Come on. You can ride me before our food gets here."

Stephen lets Antony help him up out of the water. He stands at the edge and swipes the worst of the water off his skin with his hand. It feels good to be naked, the warm air on his skin, his Sir's eyes on him. "My collar," he up nods at the lounger nearest Antony. 

"I should've taken it off you before getting in the water," Antony says, fastening the leather around Stephen's throat again.

"Or we get a latex one for the week, otherwise it'll be on and off, on and off," Stephen leans in to allow Antony access. "Feels good to be wearing it again," he admits, when Antony steps away. 

Antony grins over his shoulder. "I hadn't even thought of that," he says, stretching out on the oversized lounger with its thick waterproof cushioning. "It's never really come up before." Of course, he's never taken anyone away on holidays before either. Well, not in years. And not like this.

Sprawled out, skin glistening with water droplets, Antony looks all shades of edible to Stephen. He grins and closes the distance between them, climbing up onto the lounger on his knees so he can crawl over his Sir. "I don't _need_ it on, to know I'm owned, but if you want me to wear one all week...it might be an idea." 

"We'll get one tomorrow," Antony says, smiling up at Stephen. Fuck. "God, you look good."

"I should fucking hope so, I've been putting in extra time at the gym, I needed the distraction," Stephen grins. 

Grinning back, Antony slides his hands over Stephen's thighs, ignoring his cock in favour of stroking his chest, nipples rolled between his fingers. "Missed me that much, did you?"

"Yeah, and I know that sounds a little crazy considering how short a time we've had, but yeah, I was distracted, unsettled I guess," Stephen pushes down into that pull on his nipples. "But I soooo, don't want to come off as needy," he chuckles - a little throatily. 

"You're not," Antony says, his cock hardening between them, fingers working those nubs into tight rigid peaks. "I missed you too. And I took a lot of ribbing from my men about checking my phone."

"Huh!" Stephen blows out a stuttered breath, his dick's fast filling out, to hang heavy between his thighs. "Good to know it wasn't just me then," he bites on his bottom lip before adding, a little playfully "'Your men'? I thought I was your man?"

Antony laughs. "You are. I mean my crew," he says. "They don't get too many chances to give me grief about anything. Not that they know you're a guy. They just know I'm seeing someone and they assume it's a woman."

"You're not out?" Stephen's a little surprised, purely on the basis that Antony is the boss. He raises one hand and rubs his fingertips along Antony's jaw line, the skin there is stubbled and rough. "Hmm, I like being owned, being someone's 'someone'."

"Not with these guys. Besides, I'm bisexual. They've seen me look at women. It doesn't take much to keep that rooted in their minds," Antony explains, smiling, tilting his head a little into the touch. "If they find out, that's fine, but I don't tell them anything about my personal life."

Nodding Stephen drops down onto his side, pressing himself against Antony, he throws his one leg over Antony's thigh and props his head on his hand. "S'cool," he says softly. He's finding it difficult to square up the idea of Antony with a woman, but maybe that's because his Sir has been so very full on with him. "Did you pack your boots?" he asks, suddenly, mischief tugging at the corners of his mouth. They hadn't had much chance to talk over that intense military scene Antony had arranged - Stephen had been such a space cadet in the aftermath he was next to useless for any kind of meaningful discussion. 

Antony grins. "Yup. Although I think they have half the desert on them at this point."

Stephen shrugs at that. "I can clean them," he gives Antony a decidedly flirty look up from under his lashes when he adds, "Before I get them dirty again of course."

Antony groans softly, not even bothering to hide it. Pulls Stephen in closer, kissing him fully, any thought of actually fucking his boy pushed to after dinner since their food'll probably be here soon. "Do you want any days completely out of role?" he asks. "Where you don't want me putting you under?"

Still licking the taste of Antony's kiss from his lips Stephen nods. "Yeah, yeah I think if you want us to be more than Sir and boy...then we need to do that." He's aware of course that there's every chance that they may only connect like they do on this level - in a BDSM context, it certainly won't be the first time Stephen's simply not cut it as partner material, whilst being a perfect boy. 

"What about tomorrow? In role, since it's been a couple of weeks? And out the next?"

"Sure," Stephen nods, he's happy to go along with Antony's direction - the most important thing is that they're together - and that's taken care of for a week at least. "Maybe you can take me snorkelling on our day off?" he offers.

"I'd love to," Antony says, his enthusiasm for the idea coming straight through. "It's one of the best places in the world to go. It's fucking incredible - all the fish and the coral and the colours. You might even see a couple of sharks, but they aren't really interested in us."

"You'll have to show me the ropes again," Stephen's happily trailing fingertips down the centre of Antony's chest - their low level of arousal making them both a little languid. 

"Sure. It's like riding a bike though," Antony says, kissing Stephen again, just because he can. "You said it's been a long time since someone tried to fist you?"

He blinks and then laughs, hand sliding over to squeeze Antony's side. "Oh so that's where your heads at? Yeah, it's been a while, it wasn't something Cam was interested in, and the guy before him had a shit squick so he'd never consider it." He leans in for a kiss of his own. "I'd very much like you to take that from me," he whispers before licking into Antony's mouth. 

Their tongues tangling, Antony pulls Stephen closer, deepening the kiss, his arousal spiking hard again just as there's a knock at their door. "Shit," he murmurs, chuckling a little. "That would be our food."

"I'll get it," Stephen slides reluctantly from the lounger and pads, naked, to the door. He beams at the room service slave, letting them push the trolley in before retreating with a quiet 'enjoy'.

"Do you want to eat out there?" And for the first time Stephen feels the need for some kind of ...pet name - or something - to call his Sir, his 'boyfriend'. 

"Yeah." Antony nods, arranging the loungers so they're closer, the small coffee table between them. "I like spending my time here on the water as much as I can."

"This is gonna sound odd..." Stephen sets out Antony's plate and opens a beer for him before doing the same for himself. "I just had that weird urge to add a 'darling' or a 'Tony' or something when I called out." He sits down and looks over his plate. 

Antony looks back. "You asked me about that before. Calling me Tony."

"I know... but that was before..." He shrugs and picks up his beer. "Darling then?" he teases, blue eyes dancing. "Or Sweetie?"

"Not on your life," Antony says, a small smile curving his lips as he cuts into his steak. "But I suppose I could handle Tony, from you - as long as you make sure your mates know it's Antony. I don't want anyone else calling me that."

"I don't really want you to 'handle it, I'd prefer you actually _liked_ it." Stephen douses his fries in ketchup and pops one into his mouth. "But I'll strike 'Sweetie' off the list," he adds with a wink. 

"Thanks, and I don't know if I'd like it or not," Antony admits. "Why don't you try it out on me?"

"Okay," Stephen nods, then grins suddenly, "Tony, did you remember to order dessert?" he smiles sweetly, a reminder that he has a sweet tooth of epic proportions. 

Antony laughs. Okay, so coming from Stephen... "Nope, but I brought you chocolate from Bahrain," he says. "You can have that."

"Bahrain?" Stephen frowns. "I though you were in Prague?" 

Shit. "First job was in Prague. This week was Bahrain," Antony says casually, busying himself with his steak which is cooked exactly the way he likes it.

"Wow, that _was_ some trip huh?" Tipping his head he studies Antony a little closer. "No wonder you look tired - maybe later I can give you a massage hmm?" 

Antony flashes Stephen a smile. "I'd love a massage. After you open your presents."

"You're on," Stephen lifts his beer glass and offers it in a toast. "To a week of fun, frolics and fucking."

"Mm. Sounds perfect to me," Antony says, knocking their glasses together. "And yes, you can call me Tony if you want. But just you."

"Of course just me," Stephen grins and takes a drink. "You're my guy, I'm not going to let anyone call you _my_ pet name," he winks and reaches out with one foot to rub his toes along side Antony's foot. "I'll only use it when it's just us okay?" he offers before shoving more food in his mouth.

Antony nods, feeling rather more pleased than he'd expect over something so small. "How's your food?" he asks, digging into his baked potato and his sauteed mushrooms.

"It's club food, it's excellent," Stephen spears a hunk of steak and some fries on his fork. "I bet the seafood here is amazing." He glances around. "Like every other fucking thing here," he pulls his gaze back to Antony and gives him a pointed look. 

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," Antony says. "I was hoping you'd like it. They do a grill on the beach every night, fresh catch of the day. I just thought it was maybe a bit much for tonight." He gives Stephen a look of his own. "I know I don't feel like going back out."

"Not tonight," Stephen agrees. "We've too much mutual molesting to take care of," he smiles. "The beach grill sounds fun, maybe we can make that a date on our day off?" He swipes the last of his fries through the bloody juice puddle - the only evidence left that there was meat on his plate - and pops them in his mouth with a happy sigh. 

Antony smiles at the sight, a sure sign he is fucking _gone_ on this man. "You want your presents?" he asks, on the last few bites of his own meal.

Wiping his mouth with his napkin, Stephen nods, "Oh hell yes, I'm intrigued," he admits, before twisting around to sprawl on the lounger, beer glass in hand. "I could get used to this," he murmurs contentedly. 

"There's no reason you shouldn't," Antony responds, leaning down for a kiss before moving their plates to the tray and grabbing Stephen's presents from his bag. "Here you go," he says, handing over four separately wrapped packages. "The two on top are from Prague and the bottom two are from Bahrain."

Pushing up to sit Stephen grins up at Antony before patting the edge of his lounger indicating he should sit. "Thank you,". He picks up the top one and peels back the wrapping - clearly done my a professional - to pull out a tee, he shakes it out and holds it up, studying it - 'Praha Drinking Team' - before snorting. "Ha! Love it!" he declares leaning over to press a kiss to Antony's mouth. "I know you like a drink, but do you like to have a binge every so often? You know, get wasted and regret it the next day kinda thing?" 

Antony laughs and nods. "Yeah, I do. You?"

"Occasionally, yeah." He folds the tee up and puts it to one side. "Though I get horny as all fuck on gin," he warns. 

"I'll have to remember that," Antony says, leering playfully as he runs a hand up the inside of Stephen's thigh.

Quirking a brow Stephen taps Antony's hand away with a tut. "I have gifts to open, behave!" he admonishes. "Sooo, what's this?" he picks up the second parcel, the largest and turns it over in his hands. 

"It's something I couldn't resist buying because it's what Prague's known for - besides drinking - but you might not like it at all. It's okay if you don't. It's a bit more... artistic," Antony says, frowning a little, not really sure of Stephen's reaction. 

Stephen's brows go up as Antony speaks, he pulls the paper open carefully. "Artistic?" he queries as he finds a box with a lid, he pries the lid off and pulls aside tissue paper to reveal a marionette. "Oh!" His eyes widen as he pulls it out of the box to let it dangle between them. "Man, that is the ugliest puppet I've ever seen in my damn life!" he pronounces with a grin. "Is it supposed to represent something? Or is it a well known character over there? Like Punchinello?" He's all shades of curious now as he holds it closer to inspect it better. 

Antony laughs. "He's called the actor," he says, amused, watching Stephen. "Which would be why I got him for you." 

"Ha! Well I'd like to think I'm better looking than this dude!" Stephen carefully folds the puppet back into its box and covers it in the tissue. "I'm not hanging that in my bedroom, he'll give me nightmares! But I have just the spot in the dining room," he grins. 

Antony grins back. "Open the next two. That one first," he says, pointing to the smaller package.

The next parcel reveals a bottle of sand art, featuring a camel and a palm tree. "Oh very super kitsch," Stephen grins his approval and leans in to gift Antony with another kiss. "Soooo, this must be my sugar fix?" He picks up the last and unwraps it to reveal a rather beautiful box, inside of which are small chocolate bars, wrapped in foil. "Thank you, seriously, this is so fucking cool," He puts the chocolate aside, the lid still open and tugs Antony in with a hand to the back of his neck. "I don't think I have ever felt this spoilt..."

"Good," Antony murmurs as their lips meet, everything he feels so far for this man poured into that kiss. "You're my boy. I want you to feel treasured."

There's something more to the kiss than _just_ lust - and even Stephen can feel it. When they pull apart he reaches up to cup Antony's face and study him for a moment. "I do feel treasured," he assures his Sir. "And...I have something for you too," he adds softly. 

"Yeah? You didn't have to," Antony says, just as softly, staring into Stephen's eyes.

A sudden smile breaks the moment and Stephen's pulling back to scramble off the lounger and around his gifts - he disappears inside returning moments later with a small black leather box. He retakes his seat and offers Antony the box. "I hope you'll see my motivation as proactive and not presumptuous," he states, clearly a little hesitant. 

"Mm. Now you have me worried," Antony jokes, but he opens the box, eyes widening slightly at the sight of the dog tags with their rubber silencers nestled inside. It takes a moment for the significance to register, for him to recognize the engraving, but then his chest goes tight and he nods. "That's your bar code."

"Yeah, yeah it is...I know I'm still under consideration, but I asked if I could be registered with the caveat that you had to sign off on it - when you feel I've earned it," Stephen's demeanour is serious - his playfulness put aside for now. "You said you wanted something to remind you..." he swallows. "Did I fuck up?"

Antony's head jerks up at that. "No. God, no." He pulls the chain from the box and slips it over his head, fingering the tags where they lay against his chest. "This is perfect. Really. Fucking amazing." He grins at Stephen.

"Yeah? Really?" Stephen had not been sure he wasn't over stepping, and the guy who had helped him arrange it at the club had been confident it wasn't too presumptuous, even so...

"You're not to take them off," he admonishes, teasingly. "Carry me with you wherever you go Sir," he sets his own gifts into a neat pile and then rolls up onto his knees. 

"I will," Antony promises, settling back, his gaze locked on Stephen. "I want my boy now. I want him to grab some lube and prep his ass for me."

Nodding with a murmured "Yes Sir," Stephen's once more up and out of his lounger - he returns with lube - but instead of climbing back up onto the lounger he kneels on the wood decking, turns and presents his ass to his Sir. He proceeds to spill lube over his fingers and then reach back, pulling his ass cheeks apart he smears it around and in his hole. 

Antony groans appreciatively, wrapping his hand around his cock and slowly stroking while he watches. "Get your fingers in there, boy," he orders. "You'd better stretch that hole wide open for me."

More lube, this time on his other hand, and then with his forehead pressed to the floor he slips in both of his first fingers, tugging at his hole, stretching it, wanting to offer Antony - Sir - a slight gape to appreciate before he uses him. Two fingers soon become four and he's pulling on the rim, working it open. 

"Hold it. Just like that. I want to take a picture," Antony says, reaching for his shorts and his phone.

And that right there, pushes Stephen's humiliation button - because as a TV 'star', one who has already had close shaves, he's had it drilled into him that no-one should ever take sexually compromising pictures of him - and here he is, his fingers in his ass, his hole reddened, slick with lube, gaping in readiness to be filled with cock and cum. _Fuck!_

Antony takes a few shots including one close-up and one with Stephen's profile visible, the rest with his face carefully out of view, his phone clicking loudly with each and every photo. "Look at that hole, at my fuck toy opening his ass for his sir. You want my cock, boy?"

Face burning with his shame Stephen murmurs a quiet "Yes Sir..." before clearing his throat and trying for a better attempt. "Yes, yes, this fuck toy wants his Sir's cock, he needs to be used, to know Sir is gaining his pleasure," he states, his voice clearer if a little rough. 

Setting his phone aside, Antony stretches out on the lounger, his cock already weeping against his skin. "My fuck toy'd better get up here then. I want him doing the work."

Stephen pushes up, rolling onto the balls of his feet. His cock hangs full and heavy between his thighs, his skin pink from his hair line down to where is fades at his nipples. Taking the lube with him he crawls up over his Sir, he spends a moment smearing a fresh squeeze of lube over Antony's erection before moving above it. 

"I love that you blush like this," Antony says, reaching up to trail fingers from Stephen's temple to his chest, a smile curving his lips.

Stephen blinks, dropping his gaze for a moment. "My shame is your pleasure," he murmurs. 

"Yeah? Good. Because I love pointing out what a fucking needy little cunt you are, what a little fuck pig," he murmurs, voice low, firm, teasing but not, his hands sliding up the insides of Stephen's thighs now, like they did before dinner.

"Your fuck pig," Stephen returns, his gaze fully lowered now, he's aching to guide Sir's cock to his hole, desperate to feel that impressive erection stretch him, fill him, but he has to wait, until ordered to do so. Even so, his hips move, small mock thrusts as if he's already in place. "Please....please Sir...I need your cock...let me please you..."

Antony nods, his hands stilling. "Go ahead, boy. Impress me. Show me how badly you need it."

That's easily done, because fuck does Stephen want... _need_ this. He reaches down steadying Antony's cock and then he slowly, but surely lowers himself down, blowing out a sharp breath as the head breaches his body, but he continues, not stopping until his Sir is fully inside him, his butt snug against Sir's body. 

"Fuck. Look at that," Antony breathes, definitely impressed, his head swimming with the tight heat of Stephen's body. "Look at that hungry cunt just swallow me up."

"S'because I've felt empty. Your fuck toy was useless with no cock to please." Stephen's voice has dropped, and he's whispering. "Your boy had no real purpose without you," he starts to rock, a slow pull up and drop down, a sinuous movement of his hips. His gaze is locked on his Sir's chin, not daring to meet his gaze unless directed. 

"I'll have to give you more tasks while I'm away," Antony says softly, groans welling up from deep in his chest, his pleasure building slowly, coiling languidly at the base of his spine, his cock throbbing roughly inside his boy. "Keep you busy, purposeful, keep your cunt filled..."

"How can I be purposeful when my reason is away?" Stephen tilts his head. "Nothing is like having you with me, in me, filling me...nothing is a substitute," he leans forward, placing one hand over the dog tags Antony now wears. " _You_ Sir, are my purpose."

Antony's both thrilled and chilled by the words, the thought that he's become the centre of someone else's world when his own is so fucking dangerous... He closes his hand over Stephen's, holding it tight to his chest, his eyes locked on his boy's. "I know and I'll take care of you," he promises. _Keep you safe._

Stephen finally meets Antony's gaze, he's so far gone in his head space he simply lays himself open to his Sir - every thing he is handed over without thought. A small frown mars his expression for a moment then it's gone, and he's blissed out again, his body working Antony's cock, content now he has his _purpose_.

"That's it. Good boy," Antony urges, arousal coiling tighter and tighter as Stephen rides him.

Sliding his hands over Antony's chest Stephen lets himself touch and feel, feel the way the muscles of his Sir's body shift under sweat damp skin, he licks over his bottom lip and keeps his hips moving, never stopping, never faltering as he pulls his Sir closer and closer to orgasm. "Mark me..." he murmurs, "Own me again."

Antony nods, starting to meet each and every drop with a thrust of his own. "I'm gonna fill you up, let you have every last fucking drop," he growls, hips moving faster, matching his boy's rhythm.

Despite himself Stephen's body is responding to the overwhelming sexual stimuli - his focus is on his Sir, and nothing else, but his body is flushed, his cock hard, the tip beading and sticky with precum. He stares down, glassy eyed at the man who is entire world in this moment. "Yes...yes please..."

Feet braced against the lounger, Antony drives up and into Stephen even harder, once, twice and again, before he shouts out his climax, seed spurting inside his boy, flooding his hole as promised.

Fingers stroke and sooth hot, wet skin and Stephen rides out each twitch, each jerky aftershock Antony's body gives out. He reaches up to wipe sweat from his own eyes and leans in to press a kiss to the centre of his Sir's chest. "Thank you," he whispers. 

"You're welcome, but we're not done yet," Antony whispers back, working his hand between them to wrap his fingers around Stephen's still swollen cock. "I promised I'd let you come this time."

Pushing back up Stephen braces himself, his hands flat to Antony's chest. His head hangs as he whimpers, his body shaking as his Sir works his erection, sure and wicked hands drawing him closer and closer to the edge of his completion. 

"You have permission, boy. Whenever you can," Antony murmurs, watching Stephen's face, his cock still buried deep inside him.

By the time Stephen reaches that perfect crescendo of pleasure he's trembling, his skin flushed as he cries out an almost pained noise. His hips stutter and his cock sprays semen over both their skin, he's gulping air like a man drowning, pupils blown wide with a mix of pleasure and subspace. 

"Good boy," Antony praises, slowly gentling his strokes until his hand stills completely. "You know what to do."

Stephen reaches out to pull his Sir's hand up to his mouth, and he spends the next few moments sucking and licking his cum from warm skin. His eyes are closed and his expression is one of pure bliss. Little aftershocks make him shiver and only when Antony's hand is clean does he open his eyes. To attend to the rest of his mess he'll have to move off his Sir's cock - and he's not doing that without very clear direction. 

"We should move inside," Antony murmurs, but wraps his arms around Stephen instead, pulling him in closer. It's still so warm out here, and his boy feels so good...

Settling his face in against the side of his Sir's neck Stephen lets out a long sigh. He's exhausted, sated and centred, and his Sir's arms feel solid and good around him. He presses a kiss to the pulse point beneath Antony's lips and closes his eyes - not wanting to move. Not an inch.


End file.
